A Day Behind
by SpiritualEnergy
Summary: His Brother had told him they were all one and the same, after all. He was the same as Alfons, and she was the same as the face he could not recall the name of. [Al & Riza] [Movie spoilers]


**Fandom: **_Full Metal Alchemist_  
**Pairing/Characters:** Al & Riza  
**Word Count:** Minimum 1,000  
**Warnings: **Movie spoilers ahead.  
**Theme: **Remembrance  
**Disclaimer: **Full Metal Alchemist © Hiromu Arakawa  
**Challenge by: _SilveryDarkness _**_– I hope you like it!_

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_**A Day Behind**

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**Alphonse Elric slept that night.

It was a sleep filled with shivers and shakes, turns and tangles that he could only identify as being strangled. Now human sweat poured down his now human face, and his now human finger nails pierced into his now human skin.

And a small drop of now human blood pooled in his now human hand, and he could feel it as his now human eyes shot open.

The now human boy panted, his now human chest heaving as he brought his palm up to cover his now human heart.

His thoughts swirled in the darkness, the inner workings of his head craning as his eyes darted towards the first thing he saw, and without even meaning to, Al rubbed a hand over his face just to be sure it was real.

Ed lay asleep in front of him, the strands of golden blond hair arching down and covering his usually sharp features, currently freed from the ponytail he would usually adorn these days.

"_You still had your soul transferred? I won't be able to hear it much longer._"

Al's jaw tightened as he silently began to contemplate the days ahead, and the days he felt were far behind him now as he tried to remember, and he couldn't help but think the picture in front of him was wrong. The picture in front of him was not the picture his thoughts had created. And – as he sat there – he watched the barely-visible stars.

It was going to rain tonight. The clouds were gathering in the sky, almost seeming to form into a long, grey, puffy blanket. The wind caused the trees to sway as he listened for the bumps that they had already encountered along the way while riding in the back of a truck along with the others aboard.

They were a day behind schedule, and Scar felt it necessary that they drive a little further into the night while the others slept.

They slept peacefully beside him, despite the terror that was sure to come along with the wrath of their enemies. After all, they were wanderers without any true home – and Al couldn't exactly remember what home felt like. It was days behind him now; so far behind, that he felt he could never turn around and go back.

This was home. His Brother was home. He could never deny that.

For a moment, Al sat and thought of home. The home from long ago that he couldn't quite remember – the home he was only beginning to recall. There were many times where he had sat in front of Winry, and he would feel guilty because he could never remember what she had looked like in the years they had grown up. He remembered the small little girl, and he could see the remains of tears, but he could not see anything else beyond that point, and he would sometimes wonder if she cried over him and his Brother.

And there were others. Many others. Al could see the outlines of their bodies, all meshing together like soldiers without a face.

But he knew soldiers had faces. They were just lost in the haze that was their identity crises as they searched for what they truly were and wanted, and for what they fought for in this fuzzy world that he was only starting to get the hang of.

And there was always a face. One face that he could remember quite clearly, despite the fuzziness that still lingered off the edges. Her hair was always tied up in a tight bun, and he could see a gun stuck to her waist, and her clothing proved that she was a soldier, though she never seemed lost in the haze, as he was always able to see her.

That's what Al liked to believe. But he still remembered the rules of Equivalent Exchange and its workings. It was one of the many things he remembered in the days he left behind.

Everything has a price, he remembered. To gain anything, something of equal value must be lost.

Al silently wondered what this woman's exchange had been to be free of such a haze. And then he shook his head, remembering the words his Brother had spoken to him, telling him how alchemy didn't work in this new world, and he considered the possibility that she was in the old world, along with the many days left behind.

The other day – the day they were behind, and ultimately the day they left – he could've sworn he had seen her in the mass of people as everyone gathered to mourn the death of his other self, and he quietly lingered in the fear that a part of him had died along with the man he had never met, though knew better than anyone else.

His Brother had told him they were all one and the same, after all. He was the same as Alfons, and she was the same as the face he could not recall the name of.

Al sat forlornly in his small pile of hay, wondering what it would be like if he could touch her.

And almost as if the thought itself had triggered it, he could remember the sound of a gun shot in the distance, along with the cracking of metal as if shattered into pieces. There was someone she had protected, and he would always stand right next to her with the rest of the forms he could not completely make out in the mess of it all as he fought for remembrance.

He remembered him though. He remembered Roy Mustang, and could still see the ghost of an eye patch, and he would eventually be left behind in the days to come. He had seen him not so very long ago, and he still remembered.

Al liked to believe, despite the laws him and his Brother had always followed in their consumed childhood, that she remembered him better than he remembered her, and, just for one moment, that he could still see her face because she was not left in an identity crisis, and that she knew who she was and what she wanted.

Al quietly thought of yesterday, and how they were a day behind. He decided, as he lay down in the warmth of his straw-like bedding, that it didn't matter. The rain would come soon anyway.

With his now human memories, Al would remember to tell Ed her name in the days to come.


End file.
